“Come on. Show your faces,” he said through gritted teeth as he caressed his shotgun with the tips of his fingers. “Show your ugly little faces.”
“Mark, I don’t think we should be out here.”
“Stop being such a baby. We’ll just be a minute is all.”
He stepped out of the bushes in which they were hiding to find himself standing on the wet overgrown grass. The dew felt cold on his ankles. His socks were quickly dampened as the water seeped through the leather of his sandals. Billy’s tiny hand grabbed his as they walked toward the decrepit barn that stood about a hundred feet to the right side of the house.
They had made it halfway there when a sudden blast echoed through the night. Something whirred past his ear to land on the ground a few feet in front of him, causing a small explosion of earth and grass to somersault high in the air.
“Jesus! Someone’s shooting at us!”
Mark pulled hard on his brother’s arm, all but dragging him toward the barn.
He heard what could only be laughter coming from somewhere within the house as another shot blasted through the night. He didn’t stop to see where the bullet landed. He eased the two large sliding barn doors open and pushed himself inside, still clutching on to his brother’s trembling body. He then pulled the doors shut as fast as he could as another blast burst into the night, to find himself standing in the blueish darkness of the barn.
Those bastards! They had made it to his barn. As he saw the little monsters disappear within the old building, seeking shelter from his bullets, he couldn’t help the irritation that seeped through his veins. The anger was boiling deep inside him by then, like an overflowing witch’s brew ready to explode. They wouldn’t get away from him. Not this time. He was done with those little things. He would put an end to all of this nonsense right this minute.
Tonight, it all ended.
Placing his gun over his shoulder, he walked out of his room, ran down the stairs and walked out of the house.
They wouldn’t get away from him this time around.
Mark looked at his brother’s terrified face with concern. “You okay, squirt? You hurt?”
Slowly, Billy shook his head no. Tears welled in his brother’s frightened eyes, forming two large pools of salty water that were just about ready to overflow. A confused expression shrouded his face.
“I want to go home, Mark.”
“So do I. But that crazy man’s out there and he’s shooting at us. We’ll just have to wait in here for a little while.”
“What if he comes here to get us?”
That question was the only thing on his mind as he placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, a desperate attempt at bringing him comfort. It is hard, however, to console someone when you’re in desperate need of it yourself. As he sat next to Billy, his body mimicking his brother’s trembling, Mark feared that he’d never get out of this place alive. This barn, this—
For the first time, he willed himself to look at the things that surrounded him. The old barn was nearly in ruins; the wood had rotted through in various places, creating tiny fissures through which the moonlight seeped in. And thanks to those rays of soft blue light, he could see all the small things that sullied the cracked cement floor. They looked to him like minute white sticks at first, though the more he looked at them, the more his opinion changed. These weren’t sticks. Through the shadows, he recognized their shape: not sticks, but bones. Hundreds of small, white bones.
For a brief moment, the fear that swooned within him was so great that he thought his heart had stopped beating. A swelling shiver of terror swept through his whole body. Tears stung his eyes once more. So Tommy had told him the truth after all. Tommy and his big mouth! He was the reason they were trapped in here with this madman shooting at them. He hadn’t believed his friend’s story since Tommy was prone to embellish the truth a little to entertain his friends with his wild stories. Everything that flowed out of that boy’s mouth was colored with lies. The desire to prove his friend a liar had been too great to ignore, though now that he was faced with the brutal truth, now that he found himself surrounded with all those chalky-white bones, Mark wished Tommy would have kept his big trap shut. If he had, then none of this would have happened. They’d be back home, in their tree house, far away from this place, happily dreaming the night away.
A part of him wanted to get up and walk to those bones to take a better look at them. He needed to know if they were human or if they were animal. He knew little about bones and didn’t know if he’d really be able to differentiate the two. But he needed to try nonetheless.
Billy turned around and looked at him straight in the eyes, compelling him to remember that he wasn’t alone in this place. He couldn’t let his brother see those bones. He wouldn’t let his brother get even more frightened.
“What’s wrong, Mark?”
“Nothing at all. Everything’s fine. Just fine.” Although his own mouth had spoken those words, he found it very hard to believe them. Things weren’t fine. They were both drowning with fear, terrified by what they had just gone through and even more frightened of what was to come.
He could hear them in there. Those little bastards. They could try to hide, but they wouldn’t get away. Not this time. He was curious about them; if he only knew what they truly were, then maybe he’d have a better chance at getting rid of them once and for all. They had appeared out of nowhere, after that bright flash in the night sky, and had started tormenting him on that very night. He had killed his share of them, too, which had inevitably led him into getting a good look at them. Those large gray-green eyes full of emptiness, those tiny legs and arms, those long rubbery fingers...They all looked the same to him, none much taller than five feet high, all of them as naked as the day they were born. He had no idea how many of those things hid in the woods. He couldn’t even remember how many he’d killed. But no matter how many of them he destroyed, no matter how many of those dead little bodies he’d thrown into that barn, they kept coming back. Nothing would keep them away.
Tonight had been the last straw. He had declared war on the little monsters, whether they knew it or not.
The barn appeared through the darkness. He smiled to himself. They wouldn’t get away. Not this time. Those two little monsters hiding in his barn were as good as dead.
The silence crushed them with its weight. The waiting game had become unbearable for the both of them. Maybe the man had left or gone to sleep? Maybe the coast was clear?
Mark’s questions were quickly answered by the sound of heavy, drunken footsteps nearing the barn. Bradley! He was coming to get them and they had nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. They were trapped in this horrible place like two caged animals.
Billy must have heard the steps too as his hand squeezed his brother’s and his whole body bolted upward from where he had lain on the floor.
Their eyes met. For a brief second, their fears became one, as though their bodies were linked together by a strange electric current. There was nothing they could do against this man, especially if he had his gun with him. Mark scanned the room around him yet again, hoping that a hiding place would magically unveil itself to him.
The walking stopped. A thick silence quickly enveloped them to the point of strangulation. He could feel the night air thickening all around them. The only thing he could hear now was the sound of their own hearts pulsating in a rhythmic cadence. A sudden wave of dizziness marauded his body, making him realize that he’d been holding back his breath for far too long. He exhaled as silently as he possibly could, a long soft hiss that felt shatteringly loud to him as it sliced through the silence.